


Plot Twist

by redeyedwrath



Series: Sterek Tumblr Ficlets [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Jealous Derek, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:34:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7713445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redeyedwrath/pseuds/redeyedwrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Straight worries he’s being homophobic to roommate, realizes he’s fallen in love with him" AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plot Twist

**Author's Note:**

> DEAR GOD IT TOOK ME LONG TO WRITE THIS! Anyways, sorry if I start posting ficlets less frequently, I'm kinda focussing on something with a deadline right now...
> 
>  **TW:** Homophobia (but not really) and extreme jealousy and possessiveness

Derek likes to think of himself as an accepting person. Laura came out as asexual and biromantic a couple of years ago and he doesn’t have any problem with that. In fact, he thinks it’s wonderful that she knows who and what she likes.

Plus, one of his best friends is Danny – who’s known as the resident gay guy on campus, even though he’s definitely not the only one. So yeah, Derek likes to think he’s accepting.

That doesn’t explain why seeing Stiles kiss another guy bothers him so much.

Stiles, his actual best friend and current roommate, is the resident pan guy on campus. He and Danny have taken Derek to gay bars multiple times – most of which Derek didn’t really enjoy because of all the attention he got; he just doesn’t like talking to strangers – and he’s seen so many guys and girls respectively kiss each other that he’d thought he was desensitized to it.

Apparently not, he thinks as he presses a cold towel to his cheek, trying to get his heart rate to slow down. The image of Stiles and that other guy – David? Daniel? – making out on the couch is burned onto his retinas, his stomach churning every time he thinks about it.

He clenches his fingers on the cool stone of the sink. He might throw up if this stomach-flipping, burning feeling that’s searing hot through his core doesn’t stop soon.

“Derek?” Stiles calls from outside the bathroom. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Stiles,” he bites out, voice harder than he intends it to be. He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. “Just give me a minute.”

“Okay,” Stiles says. “I just wanted to let you know that I sent Duke away.”

He stops for a second, the burning feeling turning into something cold. He hadn’t meant to make Stiles feel uncomfortable. He’s okay with gay or bi or pan people, he really is. Stiles just – it _surprised_ him. That’s probably it. Surprise.

When he steps back out of the bathroom, he feels guiltier than he has in a while. Stiles is sitting on the couch, twiddling his thumbs, his hair sticking up in weird places and red blotches on his neck. Derek bites his lip, clenches his hands again. He doesn’t want to think about where that came from.

“Oh, hey,” Stiles says, eyes soft. Derek doesn’t think he deserves it. “Come sit.”

Stiles pats the spot next to him – the one where he was lying, Duke grinding on top of him – and Derek feels a hot flash of _something_ shoot through him before it’s gone. He sits down next to Stiles, their thighs pressed together in a way that feels comfortable.

“Sorry if I like-“ Stiles starts, taking a deep breath. “Well, embarrassed you, or something. I know you’re straight and all but I really thought you were okay with this.”

“No, no!” Derek says, way too quickly, and Stiles turns to him with wide eyes filled with betrayal. Shit, that isn’t what Derek had meant to say at all. “I mean – I am okay with it! It just caught me off guard, I guess. I swear I’m not homophobic or anything.”

Stiles smiles then, a smile that makes Derek feel warm because Stiles is so accepting of everything and Derek is such an incompetent asshole sometimes that he’s not sure if he deserves it.

“I know you’re not,” Stiles says. “So you won’t mind if I invite Duke over again? I really like him.”

There it is again, that low, simmering feeling that makes Derek want to scream _no_ , but instead he grits his teeth and puts on a fake smile because this is _Stiles_. And as much as Derek is surprised – or is it disgust? – by this, Stiles’ happiness matters most.

“Of course I won’t,” he says, putting a hand on Stiles’ thigh and squeezing. “I’m gonna go to bed now though. It’s been a long day.”

Stiles nods and follows Derek into the bathroom. Derek is glad to be leaving the couch and the flashbacks behind.

“Thanks,” Stiles says when they part to go to their bedrooms. “For not being mad, or anything. I mean it.”

He squeezes Derek’s shoulder, absentmindedly running his thumb over the curve before he yawns out a _goodnight_. Derek waves and walks into his bedroom, pulling off his shirt.

The skin of his shoulder burns for a long time.

-

Derek sighs when he opens the door, rubbing a hand over his face. He’s had a long day; classes from eight ‘till six and he’s in the mood for some relaxation right now. He grabs a beer from the fridge and walks into the living room, intent on watching some shitty TV series.

“Hey man!” someone says from the direction of his bedroom. “You must be Derek.”

Derek narrows his eyes. The guy who’s standing there looks familiar; dark eyes and broad shoulders. He’s sure he’s seen him somewhere before.

“Who are you?” he says, uncaring of how harsh his voice sounds.

“I’m Duke,” the guy says with a friendly smile, eyes twinkling warmly. “Nice to meet you.”

Duke - the name seems to ring a bell. He shakes Duke’s hand, because he might be wary but he’s not an asshole, when Stiles enters the living room, a goofy smile on his face. Derek freezes, the images of last week flashing back into his head - Stiles moaning, Duke biting on his neck-

“I see you two have met,” Stiles says, tone cheerful. Duke smiles at him and rubs a thumb over the back of his neck.

It’s happening again, Derek can already feel it, the hot, scalding flash of _something_ shooting through him, and before he knows it he’s pushing Duke towards the door, careful to avoid touching skin.

“Well, nice to have met you but I’m not in the mood for any of this shit right now,” Derek says, fake smile plastered on his face. He jumps when Stiles puts a hand on his arm. When he looks up, Stiles is glaring at him.

“Duke, wait!” Stiles yells, but Duke’s already gone. Derek feels vindicated for a second before he sees the way Stiles’ face is contorted in anger, wrinkles on his forehead.

“What the fuck, Derek?” Stiles yells when he closes the door. Derek flinches, rubbing his index finger against his thumb.

“What?” he asks, voice small. He knows what Stiles is talking about, of course he does. He’s not an idiot. He just doesn’t know what’s going on - only that there’s something about Duke that gets under his skin and makes him want to -

“Don’t ‘what’ me. You know what I’m talking about. Why the hell are you being such an asshole?”

Stiles is flailing in a way he hasn’t in years. It makes Derek feel guilty, knowing he can destroy Stiles’ carefully-crafted balance this easily.

“I’m not,” he says, voice harder this time, more determined, because he _isn’t_. Not intentionally, at least.

“Yes, you are?!” Stiles shouts indignantly, eyebrows raised. Derek thinks he can see tears in his eyes. “Do you have a problem with me sleeping with guys?”

Which, every part of that sentence is so wrong. Derek doesn’t care who Stiles sleeps with - he thinks but ignores that swirling feeling of _wrong_ in his stomach.

“I don’t care who you sleep with,” he bites out, desperate to make Stiles understand. Stiles narrows his eyes, walking forwards until their toes are pressed against each other. Stiles looks strange like this, filled with righteous fury and a fire burning in his eyes.

“Then what the hell is your problem,” he says, syllables harsh. Derek flinches as they grate against his ears.

“I’ve just had a rough day.”

It’s the truth, sort of. Today was a rough day. But maybe not enough to warrant this much of a response. Derek takes a deep breath; he feels lost.

“I can’t with you right now,” Stiles says, backing up. “I need to leave.”

He grabs his coat and runs out, slamming the door shut.

Derek falls asleep staring at the door.

-

“Laura, I need your help,” he says, trying not to let the desperation shine through in his voice. He hasn’t stopped thinking about what Stiles said, about him being an asshole and being homophobic. He has no idea what’s going on with him.

“What happened, baby bro?” Laura says. Her voice is filled with worry and Derek flinches; apparently he hadn’t succeeded in sounding neutral.

“I just had a fight with Stiles.”

“Aw, baby,” she says. “What about?”

And isn’t that the million dollar question? Derek never would’ve thought that his first actual fight with Stiles would be about something as trivial as sexuality. It’s so dumb; he doesn’t have a probably with people who experience same-gender-attraction, but then why is this all happening?

“Well it’s just-“ he starts. “Every time Stiles brings his boyfriend over I feel weird? Like this burning hot feeling of _something_ in my stomach. I’m thinking it might be disgust but that’d be weird because I’ve never really felt disgusted by anything like this before.”

Laura’s quiet for a second, the only sounds her breathing and the rhythm Derek’s nervously tapping out onto the table. He stops when he realizes what he’s doing; copying Stiles’ nervous habits.

“Derek, I know this might not be what you want to hear, but maybe that weird feeling is jealousy? It seems to revolve around Stiles specifically.”

And that – well, that makes everything stop for a second. Derek’s stomach drops. Jealousy? Why would he be jealous? He’s almost sure he’s straight – he’s never been attracted to guys before.

“I don’t know what I should be jealous of?” he asks, and he hears Laura coo down the line. He feels so stupid, asking his sister for help, but he really doesn’t want to fuck things up permanently.

“Well,” Laura says, her tone contemplative. “Maybe you don’t like seeing Stiles with other people because you want all his attention for yourself?”

That – that actually makes sense. Derek swallows, rubbing his hand over his face. He pinches himself, just to check if he’s not actually dreaming. He’s not.

“I’ll call you back later, okay?” he says.

“Derek Hale, if you hang up now-“ Laura starts, but Derek presses the ‘ _end call’_ button before Laura can finish her sentence.

There’s no way Laura is right. There can’t be.

-

Derek hates it when Laura is right. He sighs and turns in his bed, the sheets half-sliding off his leg. He has half a heart to pull it back because it’s fall and he probably should, but he decided that staring at the ceiling is probably enough for now.

His heart is pounding. Does he like Stiles? He’s always been sure of his sexuality, but something about the way Laura said it makes him think. He and Stiles have been rooming for what - almost a year now? Maybe longer.

Wouldn’t he have noticed sooner if he was attracted to Stiles? Then again, he hasn’t really paid attention before. He lets his mind wander to Stiles. Stiles’ eyes, Stiles’ lips, Stiles’ shoulders, Stiles’ hands.

The freckles on his face, moles dotting the pale skin in a mocking pattern. Derek bets he could draw them all by memory, that little constellation on the side of Stiles’ face that Derek’s spent a lot of time staring at.

And when Stiles smiles, he has this little half-dimple that leads down into the soft curve of his lips, always turned up like nothing can touch him. Derek has never thought about following that path before, but now he can’t think of anything else.

He grabs his phone and dials Laura’s number.

“Derek Hale!” Laura’s voice booms through his apartment. He winces, holding the phone away from his ear. “Don’t you ever hang up on me like that again.”

“You’re right,” Derek says, not even bothering to apologize. “Oh my god, you’re _right_.”

“Oh sweetie,” Laura says, her voice soft and pitying. Derek despises her. “I’m sorry. You should tell him.”  
He considers it for a second, entertains the idea of telling Stiles that he’s actually - God, he can’t even think it. He wipes his clammy palms on his jeans.

“Should I? What if I fuck everything up.”

“Believe me, you won’t.”

Derek hopes she’s right this time too.

-

They’re watching a Tarantino movie when Derek takes a deep breath, trying to gather his courage. Stiles is sitting next to him, their thighs almost pressed together. Derek can feel the warmth radiating off him.

“I’m sorry for being such an asshole lately,” he says, fiddling with his thumbs. Stiles tenses next to him, and it probably isn’t because of the extreme violence on screen. “I was- I just- I was _jealous_.”

He whispers the last part, torn between wanting Stiles to hear it and not letting him know. He knows Stiles won’t judge him for being attracted to guys, but that’s not the problem. He doesn’t want to fuck up whatever it is they have.

“Aw, you don’t have to be jealous,” Stiles says, laughing. Derek flinches when Stiles punches his shoulder. “You have no problem getting people to sleep with you.”

“No! I mean-” he swallows, picking at a fingernail. “I mean I’m jealous. Of others. Getting to touch you.”

Stiles’ laughter quiets down, until the only sound in the apartment the gunshots from the movie they’re watching. He chances a glance up at Stiles.

“You’re not joking, are you,” Stiles breathes, mouth open as he looks at Derek. Derek can only imagine how pathetic he is right now; curled in on himself as he pours his heart out.

“I’m not. I’m sorry.”

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles yells, throwing one hand up. Derek jumps in surprise. “I’ve been flirting with you for two years now and you decide to tell me you’re sorry you’re apparently attracted to me?”

“You’ve been- what?”

Because Stiles hasn’t been flirting with Derek, has he? Sure there was the occasional gay joke, but Danny did that too and Derek didn’t mind. Was that actually on purpose. Does this mean -

“You thought it was a joke,” Stiles says, voice quiet as he lets out a harsh laugh. “It’s better that you think that then know the truth about your gay friend being in love with you.”

Derek feels like he can’t breathe. Stiles is in love with him. _Stiles is in love with him_. He shifts closer because - because he needs to touch Stiles right now. Stiles flinches when Derek puts a hand on his waist, but Derek can’t bring himself to care. He needs to do this.

Stiles’ eyes are so big up close, almost like they’re swallowing Derek. He brushes a thumb over Stiles’ cheekbone, hearing the way Stiles’ breath hitches.

“I love you too,” he whispers, Stiles’ eyes widening when he hears the words.

When Stiles leans in to kiss him, Derek lets him. In fact, he melts into Stiles’ chest and wraps his arms around Stiles’ neck, rubbing over the spot Duke was touching just days before and pulling him closer. Derek drags in a ragged breath and drops his hands to Stiles’ chest, grabbing at his shirt. He groans when Stiles snakes his arms around his waist and pulls them close enough for their hips to brush.

“Better stop my arrangement with Duke then, huh?” Stiles says when he pulls back, voice low. Derek shivers.

“Better do that,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss Stiles again.

Turns out Derek doesn’t have any problems with Stiles kissing guys if it’s _him_ he’s kissing.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that was uh. A thing. Forgive me if it’s not usual quality; I’ve been writing for three days straight so my imagination is kind of gone…
> 
> Anyways, I hope you liked it! Please tell me what you thought?
> 
>  
> 
> [Also, I have a Tumblr? Prompts are closed right now, but you can watch me cry about Tyler Hoechlin and my WIPs there ^^](http://demisexualhale.tumblr.com)


End file.
